Hieronymus Bock

This winter has been made extra festive by a special guest in the house who we call Rhonda (or usually just "Chicken").  Chicken loves Charlotte and follows her eagerly around the house.

Charlotte has been taking care of a friend's animals while she is out of town.  This chicken survived a hawk attack just before she started watching them and was also picked on by the other chickens because she was injured to the point that one of her eyes was swollen shut and we were pretty sure it was pecked out.  It's been about 2 weeks now since Charlotte has been pampering her and applying hot compresses to the eye and the swelling is subsided and it is opened up again.  We're not sure if the eye works, but Rhonda seems quite comfortable with her lodging in our home and her strength is building.  She even has been helping us out with occasional tasks, like wrapping gifts.

And sorting recyclables.

 Here is her sleeping quarters from which she mutters chicken-y things as soon as she hears us awake in the morning.  We let her roam about the house as much as possible before we get exhausted by picking up her poops.

Thank you Rhonda for being the sweetest little house guest.

Redwood Romping

We spent a couple days on the Mendocino coast, exploring Russian Gulch State Park one day and Hendy Woods on the way back inland another.  Between hikes we relaxed at an excellently peaceful spot in Elk with a hot tub, aaahhhhhh.......

In Russian Gulch we found a dampened wonderland of layered growth.  I have had an increased interest and appreciation and awe for our coast redwoods Sequoia sempervirens after reading the non-fictional book, The Wild Trees, recommended to me by my dad, in which some interested young botanists in the 1980's explore the canopies of old growth redwoods, collecting previously-unknown information about the types of life (lichens, ferns, huckleberries, etc.) that live over 300 feet in the air in platforms of actual soil that had accumulated there over hundreds of years.  Old-growth Coast Redwoods that were passed over by the devastation of logging in the last couple centuries have been verified to be 2,000 years and older.  Here is a young up-and-comer riding on the shoulders of a fallen ancestor (or could it possibly be a basal resprout of that same ancestor?  I do not know!).

An Arboreal Salamander Aneides lugubris patrolling for small insects, enjoying the dampness of November.  Lacking lungs, the Arboreal Salamander breathes through its skin, and so is dependent on high humidity levels.  When the seasons become dry again, these little fellas take up hiding in damp tree cavities, which they can climb up in to.

We saw many micro mushrooms popping out of just about everything around us, even little tiny twigs were bursting with fungal fruiting bodies.

We took the Fern Canyon Trail, which rewarded us with this little waterfall.

The next day at Hendy Woods, we took a short cruise through some old growth redwoods, which were quite spectacular.  I don't think I had seen one for many years, probably since living in Santa Cruz and visiting Henry Cowell Park about 10 years ago...
The way any living organism could be so clever and resourceful as to find a way to grow so massive and survive all variety of obstacles (fire, wind, rot, seasonal drought) and live for literally thousands of years, is incredible.

Also in Hendy Woods is the lean-to shelter of the now-deceased "Hendy Hermit" or "Boonville Hermit", a Russian immigrant that inhabited these woods through the 1960's and 70's.  He had no immigration papers and a strong distrust and fear of any authority.  He was described as quiet and gentle, apparently subsisting off gifts from campers and "farmer's back rows".  I recalled my middle- and high-school days with my old friend Lucas when we daydreamed of escaping the nonsense of civilization and living as underground hermits... with internet, of course, to play our video games.

New skin, new life

The reveal of a new skin suit is always cause for celebration, especially when there are scales involved.  Kronos has been more curious and explorative this past week, partly due to her shedding nearing completion.  Also, we have been putting a couple mealworms in little cups here and there to encourage her to explore more and get more comfortable with the layout.

Kronos Housewarming

This is Kronos.  Kronos is a Savannah Monitor lizard and is close to 3 years old.  She was bought by Charlotte from Petco, where she had a visible mite problem.  We spent many days of the year 2019 designing, sketching, constructing, re-designing, re-sketching, etc. an 11 x 4 x 4 foot raised enclosure for Kronos.  Initially, she seemed surprisingly comfortable with her transplanted location, looking around a bit and experimenting with basking spots.  Here she's laying across a piece of wood atop the burrowing box, which is roughly 4 ft. x 2 ft. and about 10 inches deep.

Here is the burrow box we put together.  Not shown in this picture is the plastic storage container (sans lid) we used as a sort of "liner" for the inside of the box.  We used dampened coconut fiber for her digging medium.  The roof consists of 3 slabs of tile, which are removable.

This is more or less the final product!  Heat lamps keep the temperature always at least 70F with a basking spot as high as 120F during the day that Kronos can lay in when she needs to bring her temperature up and be active.

In the right corner is a pond which we put a lot of thought into creating, eventually settling upon this shower basin that can drain down into a bucket below when we need to change the water.  Kronos does most of her pooping underwater, which seems pretty hygienic.  It's also good for Savannah Monitors to get as much soaking time as they can, since they absorb much of their body moisture through their skin.  We've come to slightly dread the task of cleaning this basin out after a poop, since the increased volume of this design compared the the plastic storage bin we used for her old bath/pool makes a bit more work.  Hopefully the design pays off and Kronos becomes more comfortable with things, utilizing the pond more freely on her own and not always needing to be lured in with a tasty cockroach.

One of my first impressions of Kronos was surprise at her amount of personality and different moods from day to day.  A change of surroundings, even just rearranging a log or two, can cause her to be like a hermit for a week.  So could being handled when she isn't ready for it.  Being such a food-motivated creature, we try to use feeding time as a time to get her more familiar and comfortable with us and her surroundings, making sure to end on a good note and not leave her feeling scared of the situation (so much as is possible).

She seemed to transition smoothly into her new enclosure when we moved her in ~7 weeks ago, taking immediately to the burrow area as her new safe place, and sleeping place, but also utilizing the basking spots during the day.  Lately she has been a bit on the shy side.  There was a 2 week period where she had, shall we say, "scant scat".  That ended a couple weeks ago, thankfully.  We wonder if she is preparing to lay her first clutch of eggs, as the veterinarian informed us she is at the proper age for this to start happening (in their native northern Africa, this happens in September - October).  If this were so, it would be crucial that she has the right kind of burrow in which to dig and bury her eggs (unfertile, as they would be, in this case).

Anyway, I am hoping she comes around and starts to spend more time "out and about", doing her lizard thing and basking during the days.  Another thing to consider, though, is that winter in their part of Africa is the dry season.  For the couple of months when it is not raining much, Savannah Monitors stay less active and deplete their accumulated store of fat, a process said to be crucial to their health.

Here's Kronos in an active and curious mood, having a little cricket snack and then flashing her winning smile:

Ask Me About My Melons

This year we experimented with vertically trellising some smaller melon varieties: Ha'Ogen, Charentais, Canary, and Prescott Fond Blanc. . .

It's a little hard to distinguish amongst everything else, but there is a sawhorse in the middle with melons growing up it.  You can see one of the melons hammocked in a piece of an old T-shirt.

A few characters of the aforementioned varieties, with some miniature Moon and Stars watermelons, too (they were not trellised, although they could have been, considering their surprisingly palm-sized stature).  The Prescott Fond Blanc on the right was interesting in its pumpkin-y appearance, but lacked sweetness.

A curious observation:

A Bisected Ha'Ogen with seed cavity divided into 4ths

A different Ha'Ogen with its seeds divided in 3rds!

The Ha'Ogen has exquisite banana-y tropical juicy flesh and a very musky fragrance before even being cut open.  A delight for all the senses!

Weminuche Wilderness Pt. 3

On Day 3 we hiked up Johnson Creek toward Columbine Pass.  We'd covered a lot of miles in two days and decided not to push ourselves too hard, turning back at about the 3 mile point after stopping for lunch next to a miniature flowing canyon.
Gazing on the sheer cliff before us, we pondered the madness that would compel people to blast chasms two miles deep in such terrain in the pursuit of silver.

Throughout the higher elevations we noticed large swaths of forest consisting of mostly dead trees.  I think this is attributed to a succession of drought years which enabled a large-scale beetle attack on the Colorado pine forests.

Organ Mountain on our left.

I didn't take as many photos this day partly because of rain.  We got back to camp and hunkered down as the afternoon rains passed over us.  The sound of thunder in the mountains was awesome.

As the skies cleared and the sun was about to descend behind the mountains, we emerged and lit a fire and ate our rehydrated dinner meals.  The aspen looked on...

The next morning a rainbow greeted us over Thunder Mountain and also warned of possible rain as we rushed to pack our camp up.

I am pretty sure this is a yellow-flowered species of salsify, the plant responsible for the poofball seedhead picture on Day One.  In Napa, they have a light purple flower.

Eager for fresh food and comfortable furniture, we frolicked down the glacial trajectory of Vallecito Creek back to the car.  It was an awesome trip.

Weminuche Wilderness Pt. 2

Day 2 brings the promise of lighter packs and new scenery.  We eat breakfast and  hike further up Vallecito Trail toward Rock Pass.
We pass a giant dandelion-type poofball... old friend Salsify, root of bland repute?

This cricket was a stunning jade green color

Clovers

Another one of the many types of berries that adorned the edges of the trail.  I recognized this Twinberry honeysuckle (lonicera involucrata) from the Martha Walker Native Plant Garden at Skyline Park in Napa.

Looking back toward our campsite between Mt. Irving (Left) and Thunder Mountain (Right), with Organ Mountain in the middle background.

Dad spots a curiously perched stone.

Indian Paintbrush

Campanula parryi at it again, looking casually chic in this rock-lichen outfit

Feeling overwhelmed by the sheer beauty all around us, we are forced to take momentary reprieve along the creek, hydrating and collecting our wits.  A spikelet of Fireweed looks on from the forest edge.

Sprawling geraniums were common throughout our trip, seeming to vary in size and shades of pink-white.  I remember thinking these two were the epitome of best friends.

Another dashing duo, monkey flower and daisy, chime in on the chorus of wildflowers in every direction.

Not the biggest.  Not the juiciest.  Not the sweetest.  And yet somehow, the BEST raspberries I have ever eaten.  Yum yum yum

Tiny bells.  Unknown to me.

A passing hiker informs us of a moose resting in some foliage about half a mile up the trail on the left.

We keep an eye out for the majestic beast.

As disappointed as I was not to spot the moose, I was stunned to see these showy blue Columbines, just like the ones sold at the nursery, growing in the rugged, rocky hillsides at 10,000 ft. elevation.

We reach our turning point for the day.  This creek's rocks are stained orange, unlike Vallecito Creek's rocks which are colored a chalky white, from differences in mineral runoff, we guessed.

This was one of, I believe, two species of Artemisia I saw, both with the

sage-y pungeant aroma common to the family.

Indian Paintbrush and Yarrow

Descending back towards our campsite.  Thunder Mountain on the right half of the phtoto.  Camp is around the bend to the left somewhere.

Oh, there it is!  

A mysterious 8 ft. berm ran a straight and even course past the edge of our camp.  We tried to conceptualize how it may have formed... was it by river?  Glacier?  How was the land leveled so evenly on it's higher side?  It provided a cozy privacy from the, albeit uncrowded, trail.

As we settled in for dinner the hillside was partially illuminated by the fabled "alpine glow".

Looking north toward where we spent our day.  Thunder Mountain on the left.  That's the Big Dipper constellation in the sky there.